sj, I'm sorry your session left you feeling so bad.

I'm giving all that energy to something else in my life. I'm gonna live this life, in this body, now.

I envy you your ability to decide to be content in your body. I have given up on dieting, did that a couple years ago, and promptly lost 50 pounds. But it isn't enough. I cannot stop hating this body, cannot stop feeling as though I have been imprisoned in it. That 50 pounds gone was a slap in the face. Furthermore I feel like the connection between cause and effect in my universe is not tethered correctly. I need logic to work so that I can figure things out, but I don't live in that world. The only thing that makes sense to me is cats.

I actually find action packs movies and tv very calming when I'm angry or upset. The radio in my car was playing loud, angry music on the way to the restaurant.

Aw. Then, go forth and be bombarded! I love the bass pounding my chest during action movies. Enjoy!

I remember reading a breast cancer survivor's story years ago where she talked about being oppressed by everyone telling her to 'rest.' Her conclusion was that sometimes dancing _is_ the healing.

I'm glad you are feeling a bit better and are taking care of yourself, sj.

WS, we are one in body hatred, although mine is more about my disability than my weight on most days, but weight is becoming more and more an issue to me. In previous appointments my therapist was shocked at how strong my body hatred is.

I actually don't hate my body, although I kind of feel about it like I do our house: man, it needs some work, and with some effort, it could be delightful. Not perfect, not a magazine-worthy showplace, but pretty delightful for my needs. But I don't hate it.

What I'm having a harder and harder time with, though, is how many other people hate it, simply because it's large. People who don't even know me, and are utterly hateful about just the poorly defined idea of "fat." It actually kind of scares me.

I seem to have some weird, reverse body dysmorphia.

When I was actually at my right weight (which is about 25lb more than the charts say I should be), I felt fat.

Now that I'm 25lbs over my right weight, I don't much care...except for the clothes and energy issues.

Sigh.

In previous appointments my therapist was shocked at how strong my body hatred is.

I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. Well, Ok, maybe the world would be a better place if greedy capitalist power-hungry madmen were so consumed with self-loathing they couldn't spare the energy for taking over the world.

And now, Bitches style, I am laughing at both the sad state of the world, and at my own snark.

Huh.

WS, I love that thought.

Remember when people wouldn't use the handicapped stalls in bathrooms unless they were handicapped, had a small child with them, or there were no other stalls available? Well based on my recent experiences, those days are over.

I used to wish I was "just" fat, because it seemed so much more fixable than this other bullshit. But I was young and stupid then, and thought those "After" makeovers were actually awesome. And I also didn't realize what a gift I have in a quick metabolic rate that I haven't learned to doubt because of all my diets/food compulsions.ETA: I learned a lot about women and weight once I stopped letting TV be my mirror on the world so much...it's, of course, in their interest to tell us that worrying about every crumb is living simply. And, of course, people like me talk about parking spaces, period.